


Bruise

by AbsolutelyIris



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Character Study, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsolutelyIris/pseuds/AbsolutelyIris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wasn’t going to bleed anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruise

**Author's Note:**

> This series of vignettes came about after reading a lot of discussion about Veronica and Logan’s behavior, and possible lack of a reaction towards the events of “Not Pictured” in “Welcome Wagon” and recent episodes. Surely, Veronica (and Logan) are not as fucked up as they might be here, but what the hell, I want to subtly show some Veronica in quiet despair.
> 
> Originally published 2006-10-25

_bruise (v)  
To injure the underlying soft tissue or bone of part of the body without breaking the skin, as by a blow. _

Veronica Mars has a lot of bruises.

There are some she prefers to hide. The aftermath of Lilly’s death. Her mother’s abandonment (twofold). Duncan’s abandonment (threefold). “Who’s your daddy?” no longer being weirdly funny. Being locked in a burning box. Meg. Her father’s almost-death. That foggy night at Shelly Pomroy’s party where she was raped, but not by the person she initially thought.

She and Logan don’t talk about that night. Ever. She sees the guilt every time she lays beneath him, and it takes her mouth and her hands to drive the thoughts from his head.

The guilt wasn’t there for their first time, on the floor of his suite, the night she returned from New York, but that must’ve been because he didn’t have time to think before she jumped him. He didn’t have time to worry about hurting her and being too rough but it was all irrelevant because she came harder than she ever had before, and that was all that mattered to both of them.

Logan told her he loved her after their first time, possibly to lull his own uneasiness for the way it all went down. She knew he had wanted candles and romance and a bed, not carpet burns and scratches and an array of bruises from the coffee table they crashed against several times. He wanted slow and gasping and smiling, not hard and cursing and harsh grunting. At least they had kept eye contact.

His declaration was quiet, a breathless whisper against her damp cheek, almost forgotten as she faded away beneath him. She remembered his fingers tracing the already forming contusion on her thigh, she remembered he was still inside her, she remembered the feel of his bare skin against hers. All she could do in the silence that followed was smile because he didn’t leave while she was sleeping. He didn’t drop her panties on the table next to the bed. He didn’t leave her with bruises she didn’t want and with blood running down her thighs.

She leaves Shelly’s party and the salt lick behind as she kisses him again and begs for another go, and it all fades away as the first moan escapes his lips.

Veronica doesn’t really know how or why she and Logan got back together. Perhaps, the deal was sealed when he slept on the couch, gaining her father’s reluctant approval, or when he kissed her nice and slow on the balcony of his new suite after his father’s funeral. Maybe they truly got back together the first time they fucked- every phone call and the one kiss before New York was a temptation, a glimpse into what could’ve been and the intimacy was a direct slap of reality. It was also a bit of normalcy- he promised quiet dinners and little or no talking and simple, quick pleasures, like ice cream on the beach and rainy day sex.

After her birthday, she stopped worrying that she was making another mistake, that Logan would slip away yet again. He was there nearly every day after she came back from New York, and it was a good thing.

Maybe she needed him a little bit more than he needed her right now. She needed him to be her escape.

Sex was also an escape now, and she didn’t bother to question any of it. It felt good and Logan felt good and that was all that mattered. She didn’t have to think about Cassidy and the party and Logan did what she wanted, when she wanted it. He was impossibly gentle and loving and she knew he would never break the strap of her dress without her permission.

Sometimes, Logan touches the inside of her thigh right there, or kisses her right there, and she has to close her eyes to remind herself that she wants this, all of this. She has to remind herself that he isn’t Cassidy and he’s not going to leave because he’s her _reformed_ bad boy, madly in love, and not one of those deceptively nice guys that fooled her once, twice, shame on her.

Nice guys got their ex-girlfriends knocked up and skipped town. Nice guys gave her an STD and then smiled and said “hey, Veronica,” when she passed by like nothing has changed.

Veronica doesn’t talk about her rape to anyone, especially not Logan. If she did, the bruises would finally break skin and she couldn’t risk it.

She wasn’t going to bleed anymore.

 

** II. Sex, Drugs, And Three Little Words. **

“Why do you even want to do this?”

“Just curious.”

Veronica decided to drop E with Logan, once, in the privacy of Logan’s suite one weekend during the summer when her father was away on a case. It was her idea, after all- what kind of normal, hot, college experience didn’t involve the inevitable combo of sex and drugs? It wasn’t a well thought out plan: a repeat of _Sex and the City_ after a halfhearted attempt at slacking off and an awkward discussion of Logan’s past and various substance abuses led to Veronica suggesting a clean, safe night of fun.

She needed to have one typical college experience, even if it was in her boyfriend’s room, away from all the frat parties and rapes. She felt the desire overwhelming her, and at least Logan wouldn’t feed her shots before throwing her on some strange bed. It would be fun, and harmless, with the man she could love. She wanted and needed it, a final plea for ignorance, youth, and normality.

Logan didn’t bother to hide his unhappiness over Veronica’s sudden need for wanton escapades, and he was sure it has something to do with that night on the roof, but he scored a dose anyway. For her. He’s never really said no to Veronica when she’s wanted something, and he saw no reason to start a new trend now.

“This is the only time we’re doing this, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

He didn’t take any at first, but he made sure Veronica took only one and then he hid the rest after pocketing a dose for himself. At least, that was what he told her. She could’ve sworn he flushed them all down the toilet when she was in one of her post-coital hazes. She did her best to remain flippant even as his jaw clenched and he looked away as she swallowed the small pill, convincing herself that this experimentation would’ve happened whether she had gone to Shelly’s party or not.

This was the night Veronica became convinced she could truly trust Logan. He didn’t try to slip his hand in her pants, didn’t try to make her do something she wouldn’t do before. He just kept watching her as he sipped his beer, making sure she was all right, and kept feeding her water. There was something endearing about this formerly self-destructive bad boy being attentive and all-knowing about drugs with his girlfriend, and she made sure he knew it.

A smile played on Logan’s lips when Veronica’s hand ran down his neck as she left wet kisses on his cheek. He started to reach for his drink but she straddled his lap, grinding her hips against his. He knew exactly what she wanted, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

Veronica was clearly riding that high, and any urge Logan had to touch her and make her feel even better than she was at the moment was shot down by the memory of Shelly Pomroy’s party. Of the salt lick. He wanted to touch her so bad, but that wasn’t what nice guys did. He had to be a nice guy so she wouldn’t run away again. She needed a nice guy. She _deserved_ a nice guy.

He licked his lips, leaving a soft kiss on her cheek. “We’re keeping this night nice and innocent, okay?”

“Uh huh,” Veronica laughed against Logan’s neck, running her hands down his arms. “Hey, _hey_ , Logan Echolls...”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “ _Hey_ , Veronica Mars,” She reached inside his pocket, and he moved to stop her but froze when her eyes locked on his as she pulled the small pill out.

“Do you love me?” she whispered, holding the pill at his lips. He sighed, and she smirked, running her tongue over his bottom lip. Finally, he relented, opening his mouth and allowing her to slip the dosage inside. He swallowed easily, too easily, and then her mouth was on his. She pulled away with a sharp breath, smiling. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.” She didn’t respond, and he nodded quickly. “I’m going to put you to bed,” he said quietly, slouching in his seat and doing his best to ignore the friction against his hips.

“Come with me,” Veronica breathed, pressing her breasts against his chest.

“Mm, I like my girl to be sober when I fuck her,” he said, his lips brushing against hers as she slipped her hands under his shirt.

“I’m very much sober, thank you.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Veronica lifted her head, giving him a beatific smile as she sat up, pulling her shirt over her head. “I think I’m perfectly fine. I feel good and I want you to...” she trailed off as she dropped her shirt on the couch before reaching around to unhook her bra.

Logan gently grabbed Veronica’s wrists, pulling them forward so her hands rested on his chest. “Let me,” he said faintly, winding his arms around her back. She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck in a weak hug. He unhooked her bra, running his hands down her back, and his eyes closed at the gasp that came from Veronica.

“I want you so bad, Logan,” Veronica whispered against his skin.

“You have me,” he replied just as softly, unable to get his voice any higher, not when he was finally feeling the high, feeling what Veronica was. “You never lost me.”

She moaned quietly, pressing her lips against his and the moan grew louder as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She held him tighter against her, biting back a moan as he stood, carrying her to his bedroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he pushed his hips against her, now so open and exposed.

Veronica smiled against his mouth as they entered the darkness of his room, grateful they were still face-to-face and he wasn’t carrying her like some caveman. He held her like his equal, allowing her hands to cup his face as he gripped the back of her neck, each having control and none at all as they pushed and strained against each other.

She enjoyed every touch of Logan’s hands, of his mouth. The moans came freely from her mouth, louder than ever before, and she was no longer self-conscious or insecure and she felt normal and like the most beautiful girl in the world as he thrusted inside her slowly.

Logan propped himself on his elbows, watching as Veronica arched and writhed beneath him. Even still, it was a pretty damn alluring sight, but a part of him wished she was like this without the intoxication. It took her forever to get truly comfortable around him and this wasn’t the way he wanted her to release herself to him.

He knew he was going crazy when he heard her whisper an “I love you.” He had to laugh when she repeated it, louder, and with his name tacked on to the end of it. The words should’ve filled him with a certain kind of joy but don’t because of what was behind it and suddenly, he was feeling it and it was damn near euphoric and he was gone. Damn her.

He slid down so his forehead pressed against Veronica’s, his hand running down her thigh as he kissed her softly. “Look at me, Veronica,” he slurred as she arched again, her hips slamming against his and acquiring a moan. “Look at me, babe.”

Veronica’s eyes slowly opened, and she blinked rapidly as she focused on him, her nails digging into his biceps. “Logan...” she panted, a sharp cry escaping her as he dove into her again, then again.

“Keep looking at me,” Logan whispered, pushing harder inside her. “Don’t stop looking at me. Stay with me. Stay with me.” Her eyes closed tightly as she came, and he let out a shuddering sigh, never feeling more disappointed.

Later, Veronica opened her eyes, finding Logan on the other side of the bed, fast asleep. With a slight smile, she slid over to his side, wrapping her arm around his waist. She tried to swallow the dryness inside her mouth, tried to produce saliva as the beginnings of a headache began to form.

She was pleasantly sore below, and for a moment, she was proud of herself for not holding back. Even when he went down on her, she was stiff and awkward until the very end, and she knew she was relaxed this time. He didn’t have to worry about hurting or scaring her.

Logan’s eyes slowly opened, and he inhaled sharply through his nose. “Morning,” he grunted.

“Good morning,” Veronica said quietly, planting a firm kiss on his chest. “Did you have fun last night?”

“Mm,” he gently removed her hand from his stomach, sitting up. “I would’ve liked to have done that sober.”

“You _were_ sober,” she paused. “For most of it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he inhaled sharply, turning and facing her. His eyes fell on her thighs, the outline of his fingers red and dark in places on her pale skin, and he quickly looked away. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

She smiled slightly. “We had a lot of fun?”

He didn’t return the grin, his lips pressing together tightly. “Do you remember anything you said?”

“Did I say anything bad?”

“No,” She grinned, confused and unable to do anything else, and he rolled his eyes, tilting his head to look at her. “Do me a favor. Next time you want us to have fun, let’s do it without the drugs, okay?”

She bit back the urge to remind him of his various adventures with illegal substances, quickly nodding. “Fine.”

“I’m serious, Veronica. We can do this without the drugs.”

Veronica stared at Logan, certain then that he was thinking about Shelly Pomroy’s party, but she was over it and she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t. She just wanted to forget and she hated him for a moment for not allowing her to. Then, before she could stop herself- “Aren’t you the _bestest_ little Boy Scout...”

He nodded once, the hurt so clear for a moment before the mask slipped into place. “I’m trying,” he said simply, not in the mood for a fight.

Veronica swallowed hard, wrapping the comforter around her naked body as Logan climbed to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom. For the first time in ages, he didn’t want to cuddle, didn’t want to pull her on his stomach and run his hands through her hair as they talked about trivial junk and she didn’t know how she felt about it, about him leaving her.

She stayed stubbornly still, refusing to run after him. This was his problem, not hers. She didn’t understand his need to be a good guy, not when he fucked her the way he did. She didn’t understand why he didn’t want to be himself around her, why he couldn’t be himself without the lies and the pain. She didn’t understand why he held on to the past like that.

Strangely, Logan became less fun since that night on the roof of the Neptune Grand.

He doesn’t smile often, only around her and only when she is looking. And now, he’s apparently angry and upset and instead of telling her, he just walks away. It frustrates her, and she wants to scream at him to get pissed off, to shout and to call her names so she can yell back.

Now, he thinks and feels and cares too much, and Veronica isn’t sure if that’s more annoying than him being an asshole, but it comes pretty close.

 

** III. Me, You, and A Boy Named Piz **

“Veronica! Hey, Veronica!”

Veronica spun around, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. In the midst of fairies and pirates and sexy devils was Piz himself, dashing toward her in his best punk rocker costume, treasured guitar in hand. His eyes were wide like a child’s and only highlighted with the use of black eyeliner, and he held a hyperactivity that usually only came with small puppies.

Her hand self-consciously fell on her black wig, smoothing it down. She started to button up her white shirt just in case Piz decided to sneak a peek, then stopped, forcing her hands at her sides when she realized how stupid the thought was. “Hey, Piz!” she said with feigned enthusiasm.

She honestly didn’t know how to handle him- his crush on her was getting more and more obvious as the months went by. She didn’t want to be a bitch and shove him away, but she wanted him to get the hell away from her. Nice guys weren’t honest like the bad ones. Nice guys were bad boys in disguise.

Nice guys raped her in dark bedrooms when she was unconscious.

Piz gave her a short, awkward wave as he nearly slid in front of her, throwing his guitar over his shoulder. “I’m shocked! Wallace said you wouldn’t show!”

“Yeah, well, Mac made me ‘cause Parker made _her_...”

“You want a drink? I can get you a drink,” Piz said hurriedly, maybe even a bit nervously, as he grinned at her.

Veronica gave him a pained smile, cringing inwardly. “No, thanks. Someone’s getting me a drink,” she said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest as Piz took her in. His stare was innocent and full of flowers and slow dances and promises, but then she remembered when Cassidy looked like that, once upon a time and suddenly she wanted to throw up.

Nice guys don’t drug her; they’ll just wait until the damage is done to take over.

“Oh. Okay,” he let out a breath, his grin growing. “Have you been listening to the show? I put you on the mailing list, I hope you don’t mind.”

Veronica nodded, her arms uncrossing and dropping. “It’s great. I listen every night when I’m working.”

“How about the nights you’re not working?”

“I’m on a case, usually.”

His grin grew, his cheeks flushing slightly. “And when you’re not doing that? You should be listening every night!”

Her smile remained frozen on her face, wondering how one tells their admirer the truth. When she wasn’t working, she was either on a case or at Logan’s, fucking his brains out. When she wasn’t on a case, she was at Logan’s, begging him to make her forget, begging him in not so many words to take her away. A nice guy like Piz wouldn’t understand. “I listen when I can.”

Piz was neither thrown off nor bothered by her stiff response, and he nodded, nudging her with his knuckles. “Want to be on the show? I would love to have an actual, honest-to-God P.I. on.”

She laughed before she could stop herself, shaking her head. “Not a good idea, Piz...”

“Come on!” he groaned. “You’re good at it, you’ll get more cases, and you’re hot. We can totally put your picture on the website.”

“I don’t think so,” she said quietly, her head lowering as she started to flush. Perhaps there were some nice, normal guys still around, after all.

“Fine, be anti-social. I’m going to break you down, trust me,” Piz sighed, giving her the once-over. “You look absolutely awesome- who are you supposed to be?”

Veronica glanced down at her costume, a pair of simple black pants and a white shirt along with the black wig, the black bustier underneath a present for Logan later on in the evening. The piece of lingerie was so tight she knew she was going to have some ugly bruises on her ribs, worse than when Aaron almost killed her. At least this time, the wounds were welcomed.

She shrugged before looking up at Piz. “Mia Wallace... _Pulp Fiction_?”

“Oh! Oh, duh,” Piz smacked his forehead good-naturedly, cringing. “I guess I should hand in my Generation Y card now, right?” She stared at him blankly, a grin on her lips, and he blushed. “Sorry.”

She shrugged again, chewing on the inside of her cheek until it stung. “It’s okay, hardly anyone gets it.”

Piz nodded slowly, a sense of false understanding in his eyes that only came from those who knew nothing about anything. “Don’t worry. It suits you, you look great,” he paused, smiling at her warmly. “So...uh, do you need a John Travolta to dance with?”

Veronica’s eyes widened, and she laughed nervously, shaking her head for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. No means no. “No...I-”

“Here’s your drink,” Logan muttered, holding out Veronica’s cup as he stopped next to her.

“Thanks,” Veronica said, giving him a slight smile.

Logan nodded briefly. “It’s not a Martin and Lewis, but what can you do?” Piz didn’t back away and Logan frowned, annoyed. He fought back the urge to rip into Piz on the spot, reminding himself of every time he ripped into Cassidy in what he thought was a brotherly way. No more.

Piz’s smile faded as he focused on Logan, clad in a simple, black suit, his hair slicked back. He tried to force the grin back into place as Logan slipped his arm around Veronica’s waist and left a fleeting kiss on the side of her head. “Hey...”

“Logan. It’s Logan,” Logan said shortly, barely looking at Piz before scanning the crowd around him. He refused to give this guy the time of day, not after he caught Piz ogling Veronica.

Veronica sipped her soda, pointing her glass at Piz. “Logan. This is Piz, remember Piz?” Logan finally let his eyes settle on Piz, and she grew nervous as he sized Piz up, his eyes darkening. “Piz is nice,” she said quietly.

“I bet,” he gripped her waist tighter, his eyes almost daring Piz to make his move.

Piz seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable with each passing second Logan’s steely stare was on him, so he looks down, breaking the contact. “Nice seeing you again, man.” Logan didn’t respond, so Piz nodded, looking up at Veronica. “I’ll see you around, V,” he said with forced cheerfulness before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Veronica gave Piz a short wave before turning to Logan, who continued to watch Piz as he walked away. She nudged him hard, getting his attention. “Exactly what’s wrong with you?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean what’s wrong with me?”

“He was being nice!”

A laugh escaped Logan then. “ _Veronica_ , he has a thing for you, you expect me to invite him over for Texas Hold-Em?”

Veronica’s jaw clenched as she glanced down at the floor, unwilling to get into an argument then, in public. She inhaled deeply, lifting her head to stare into his eyes. “Listen, Dawson, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Dawson? I’m _so_ Pacey.”

“Whatever.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, the previous exchange already forgotten. “You said he was nice.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaving a soft kiss on his chin. “Nice boys don’t do it for me, anymore,” she said truthfully, and he raised his eyebrows in disbelief, getting a smile out of her. “I like nice, _reformed_ bad boys.”

A pleased smile played on Logan’s lips, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands digging and settling into the back pockets of her pants. There was a lie there, somewhere, but he chose to believe it, at least this once. “What does that mean?”

She met his grin, kissing him again. “It means I like guys who are nice but can _fuck_ me like they’re bad. So far, I’ve only met one guy like that.”

“I want to meet this guy.”

“Uh huh. Feel,” Veronica pressed herself against his chest, and he raised his eyebrows, feeling the stiff material under her shirt. “Like it?”

Logan laughed, running his hands down her back. “What _are_ you wearing?”

“A corset. If you play nice for the rest of the party, I’ll be wearing nothing _but_ the corset at midnight,” he growled his approval, pressing his lips against hers. With a shuddering sigh, she returned the kiss, allowing Logan to give her ass a quick, firm squeeze.

Piz was nice, but she was certain he couldn’t make her feel like this.

 

** IV. Silence Is Easy, Except When It’s Not **

Logan was dead.

Not literally, of course. The Logan Veronica knew, and dare she say loved was gone. He’s sadder, quieter, and not angry at all. Even when they fight, he’s become the more adult, reasonable one, and she wasn’t sure exactly when that happened.

She misses the old Logan that excited her and the one that made her feel. Sometimes, a weak imitation of the old Logan would come out, but she knew he was just doing it for her benefit. Doing it when she started to look bored.

Her father said Logan looked depressed. She had laughed in his face, claiming Logan had nothing to be depressed about. His father was dead, she was back in his arms, and he was actually living a normal life. Her laughter faded when her father gently mentioned something that she had refused to acknowledge since that night on the roof.

_Maybe it’s all just hitting him..._

Her father’s words hit her in the most random of places, when she and Logan sat on the balcony of his suite, staring out at the skyline silently. His fingertips ran down her arm as she leaned back against his chest, and he left soft kisses on her shoulder as they drank something cherry-flavored and vaguely alcoholic and pretended to be carefree adults for one hour of their lives.

“Let’s cut class tomorrow and go sailing,” Logan whispered against her cheek, his other hand resting on her stomach. “We can go to Catalina and I can teach you how to surf-”

“We can’t,” Veronica said with a faint smile, grabbing his hand and rubbing his fingers with hers. “I have a test, and I promised Piz I would drop by the station,” she paused, examining the light bruising on his knuckles, and wondering who he hit before she could stop herself. She could ask him about it, but she doesn’t, afraid of the answer. “You can come with me...”

“In that case, I guess I’ll try to go to class before Wallace tattles on me again.”

She frowned slightly, her breath catching as he stiffened behind her. “What’s your problem? We can go another time, Logan.”

He shrugged, pulling back and unwinding his fingers from her grasp. “I just want to get away, Veronica.”

“We can get away another time,” she said softly. He shrugged again, climbing to his feet, and she nodded, finally fed up with his attitude. “I’m going to go.”

Logan turned, watching as Veronica stood and made her way inside the suite. “You’re leaving? Why?” he followed her, laughing as she started to gather her things. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Look, your mood has drastically changed, and I don’t feel like dealing with it right now,” she muttered, throwing her books into her bag.

He crossed his arms over his chest tightly, his eyes darkening. “You don’t feel like dealing with a lot, lately.”

Veronica turned, slightly stunned that he actually replied, that he actually shot back at her. He wasn’t silent, he was actually fighting back. “Is this about Piz?”

“This is about you and the complete _silence_ you bring to everything that involves us except when we’re fucking,” Logan frowned slightly. “Excuse me for being a bit confused and annoyed- I thought we actually had a relationship.”

“We do!”

His eyebrows rose. “Do we? It looks like I have a fuck buddy, and that’s about it,” She opened her mouth to respond, and he quickly continued. “I gave you that damn key almost three months ago- why don’t you use it?”

Veronica dropped her bag, shocked at the startling anger he was displaying. She had gotten so used to him being passive and quiet for so long, this was suddenly new. It also excited her, but she couldn’t allow him to see that. “I use it.”

“Yeah, you use it when I invite you over, and when I’m already here. I gave it to you so you could come over when you want, so when I came back from class, you would be here.”

“Like a marriage?” Logan laughed bitterly, and she shook her head. “What exactly are we fighting about, Logan?”

He sighed, his shoulders slouching slightly. “Why didn’t you tell Piz I was your boyfriend?” Veronica’s mouth dropped, and he nodded. “The guy still doesn’t know my fucking name- he doesn’t even know who I am.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “God, Logan, what does it matter? I’m with you. I’m not interested in him, okay? Stop being so insecure.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, staring at her hard. “I just want to get away, Veronica,” he said quietly, his voice shaking. “I just want to go away with you and not come back. I need to get away and it scares me because I can’t. Not without you.”

Veronica shifted uncomfortably, not sure of how to respond to him. “Logan...” she trailed off, sighing. “I can’t.”

Logan flushed slightly. “Why not?”

“Well, for one, we’re not all ridiculously rich like you. Some of us need to work for a living-”

He jabbed a finger in her direction, silencing her. “Stop it. Don’t talk to me like that, all right? Why are you so cold?” The glare settled on her face, and he shook his head, chuckling. “Okay, look, how about we just fuck and you can think about Piz and we’ll call it a night, hm?”

His heart began to race as he saw the hint of lust in Veronica’s eyes for just a moment and it suddenly hit him. She didn’t want him to be Mr. Nice Guy with the flowers and the promises. No. She wanted him to be bad. She liked him when he was bad.

Veronica stared at Logan in shock, that familiar feeling of hate quickly rushing into her. She didn’t know what happened, how they got to this fight, but he was being ridiculous. She reached down, snatching her bag off the floor.

“You’re disgusting!” she snapped, rushing for the door and ignoring him as he started after her. “I hate you!”

“Good!”

Logan spun Veronica around as she reached the door, kissing her hard. She gasped, dropping the bag as he slammed her against the door, her hip hitting the door handle. She whimpered in pain, and he kissed her harder, his hands clumsily undoing her jeans.

A harsh groan came out of Veronica and the noise surprised her. She was more turned on by his touches and his words than she should’ve been, and these things were running her as she rolled her hips against his thighs when he inched his leg between hers. He was already hard and it made her rub against him harder, making him work faster at removing her clothes.

It wasn’t the sex that bothered her as much as Logan’s hard “Good!” For a moment, it made her think that he wanted to hate her as much as she wanted him to. At least then she would get a solid reaction out of him.

Ultimately, she didn’t mind. As he fucked her hard against the wall of his suite, she saw her Logan again. There was fire and anger and a hunger in his eyes that had been missing for so long, and she rejoiced under his hold.

More than anything, he was making her feel something real. He was making her want to scream in anger and in love and in frustration and pain and fear and desperation...she never wanted that more than at that moment to just burst into tears, to get all the pain out of her system, but she refused, forcing it into the anger that was driving her down on him and getting that perfect moan from his lips.

 

** V. Sex Type Thing **

A soft groan escaped Logan as Veronica continued to move her mouth up, and then down his cock, her teeth running faintly along his shaft. This was surprising- she had never given him a blowjob before, especially not after he had just gone down on her, but she was surprisingly good at it.

She didn’t even seem to have heard him when he protested, telling her she didn’t need to return the favor. There was a certain determination in her eyes as she stroked him, then went for it. She had clearly planned it all out like she did everything, and he moved underneath her, trying to resist the urge to thrust his hips up.

This was the best way to wake up, he decided, as her head bobbed slowly at his hips. He had been disturbed from his sleep at roughly four in the morning by Veronica straddling him as she removed her clothes, and he never thought she would seriously use that key, especially not to get in that early in the morning. He didn’t even have to call her for the booty call, this time.

Her shoulder was already harsh and red from his hand, a result of her sucking and licking way too slow and way too long, and it was only now that she sped up her efforts, before he could wonder what he could’ve done to deserve this punishment.

Small moans came from Veronica, and he lifted his head, surprised that she had her hand between her legs, pleasuring herself in sync with his groans. His fingers disappeared in her hair, and he gripped tightly, then released before he could push her head down.

“God...” he gasped, eyes closing tightly. “I’m coming, Veronica.”

Immediately, Veronica lifted her head, wiping her mouth before sliding up his body. She grasped his cock, sliding him inside her and smiling at the harsh moan that escaped him at the contact. His hands swiftly moved to her ass, clutching her skin as she moved hard and fast, quick pants interrupting any moans that were planning to come out of her.

Their lips met, and Veronica gasped as he bit down on her bottom lip, not letting go until she cried out. She moved harder and harder, sharp groans escaping her until she came with a shout, her nails digging into his skin, and it was then he came, his hips slamming against hers as his fingers dug into her skin.

She collapsed on his chest, tasting the sweat collecting on his skin. “Fuck...”

“Good morning to you, too,” he said breathlessly, slowly releasing her. “Thank you for the wake-up call.”

“Mm,” Veronica grinned, rolling her hips against his until he groaned in submission. “I think I’ve got you wrapped around my tiny, little finger.”

“I think you would be right, Veronica Mars,” he smirked, running his hands over her sweaty back. “I’ve also decided we have way too much sex. I’m exhausted,” he paused, a frown playing on his lips. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Whatever. I like the too much sex angle of our relationship,” she said with a smile, kissing him softly.

Logan kissed her back, running his hand down her thigh. She rested her head on his chest, and he sighed, kissing the top of her head. “I wasn’t too rough?”

“Nope.”

“You would tell me if I was?”

Veronica’s lips pressed together tightly as she stared at the wall, focusing on the lightest piece of paint, a crack painted and repainted so much that the blemish had begun to stand out. “Yeah.”

He nodded, trying to ignore the tinge of annoyance in her voice. He was asking too many questions, he knew that, but there was no reason to stop now. “Hey. Do you...do you ever think about Cassidy?” he asked quietly.

Her eyes darkened ever-so-slightly as she felt his eyes boring into her, ripping into her skin and trying to see the wounds that were threatening to break through. “Do you ever think about Aaron?” she shot back, colder than she intended, and Logan’s mouth promptly shut. She nodded, resting her head back against his chest and closing her eyes.

 

** VI. The Princess and the White Knight from Mars **

The double date wasn’t going well.

Veronica had decided that a date was exactly what both Parker and Piz needed. Too bad Piz thought the idea meant a date with her, and Parker thought that Mac was going to be there and was busy pouting. Thankfully, the house band was loud enough so the awkwardness never quite hit the foursome, and she could enjoy Logan’s company without worrying about him trying to talk to her.

Parker looked good, Veronica thought as she watched her try to make small talk with Piz. The wig she got was almost normal looking on her, and her smile was almost real now. She still stiffened any time Piz inched too close, but luckily, he got the hint and moved away.

Piz made a stupid joke, and Parker laughed politely and just a bit awkwardly, quickly looking away.

Veronica cringed inwardly as Piz stared down unhappily at his drink, and she gently nudged Logan. “Talk to her,” she whispered in his ear.

Logan frowned slightly, his grip tightening around her hips, and she tried not to flinch as his fingers pressed against a still fresh bruise. “I don’t even know this woman.”

“She’s scared and uncomfortable. Please talk to her.”

“Why me?”

Veronica gave him a dazzling smile, planting a faint kiss on his lips. “Because you have remarkable ability to charm people, no matter who they are. Make her laugh.”

He rolled his eyes. “Now, I’m a clown...”

“Shut up and do it.”

Logan shook his head, downing the rest of his drink as Piz slipped away from their table, heading over to the bar. He wiped his mouth swiftly, giving Veronica a nod before walking around the table to Parker’s side. “Hey.”

She smiled briefly, glancing down at her drink. “Hi. Parker Lee.”

“I’m Logan.”

“I know who you are, I’ve seen your picture,” Confusion was in Logan’s eyes, and Parker shrugged. “Veronica has a pic of you and her as her wallpaper. On her cell,” a long pause came as Parker thought of what to say next. “And I saw your dad’s Tinseltown Diaries.”

“Oh,” he glanced at Veronica, who quickly got up and walked away. He frowned, reminding himself to not have sex with her later that night. “Having fun?”

Parker smirked, shaking her head. “Not really, I’m still trying not to freak out...”

“It’s okay, you’ll make it, Veronica did,” she smiled at him warmly, and he returned it. “Why aren’t you dancing? The band’s pretty good.”

A slightly bitter laugh escaped Parker, then. “Come on, no one wants to dance with the damaged girl.”

Logan’s frown grew. “Who told you that?”

“No one needs to _tell_ me that.”

He inhaled sharply, glancing at Parker’s face. She reminded him of Veronica then- hurting, but with a stiff upper lip. “Not anymore. Come on,” he held out his hand, waiting.

She stared at his open palm, her eyes narrowing. “Huh?”

“We’re going to dance. Come.”

“No!”

Logan held out his other hand, wiggling his fingers at her. “I’m a good dancer, and I heard you are, too, so let’s embarrass the hell out of these people, hm?” She stayed put, and he met her gaze. “It’s only going to change if you make it, Parker Lee.”

Parker slowly smiled, placing her hands in Logan’s. He grinned, grasping her hands in his before leading her to the middle of the dance floor, twirling her on the way.

“So, this dude walks into the station and demands I give him free Aerosmith tickets. When have I _ever_ given away tickets to any band remotely cool, right?”

Veronica nodded, sipping her drink as Piz continued to talk beside her. She frowned as she glanced at their table, noticing Logan and Parker were no longer there. “Do you like Parker, Piz?”

He shrugged. “She’s cool, just...” he trailed off, sighing. “I wouldn’t know how to handle her. I would be too scared to do anything.”

Veronica’s mouth closed, growing silent at Piz’s response. Before it could fully hit her, she spotted Logan’s tall form out on the dance floor, catching Parker’s lavender dress as he twirled her. The smile on Parker’s face was genuine now, and she laughed as Logan whispered something in her ear.

The unease in Veronica grew as Parker entwined her fingers with Logan’s, allowing him to lead her around the floor. She said something, and Logan cringed playfully, glancing at the ceiling as he responded. Veronica’s eyes narrowed as he glanced down at Parker, squinting before shyly ducking his head with a smile.

He was flirting.

She didn’t know why she was becoming so upset, not after she told him to go talk to Parker and not when Parker was finally having a good time. Parker was having a good time, but she shouldn’t have been having _that_ good of a time, not with Veronica’s boyfriend. It should’ve been with Piz.

Logan laughed, and Veronica frowned, trying to remember the last time he laughed that way with her. Some drunk crashed into Parker, sending her into Logan, and he quickly shielded her, barking something harsh at the guy.

He was always the white knight. Always, no matter whom the damsel was.

Veronica’s jaw clenched, and she drowned Piz’s hurried chitchat out as she watched Logan and Parker continue to dance, chatting away happily. Veronica knew she wasn’t Logan’s damsel- he couldn’t save her. Not anymore. He was happiest when he was someone’s protector, and she knew she had taken that role away from him during the summer.

But then, in front of her, was Logan the Knight once again, making the fair Parker laugh and blush as they danced their way through one song, then another. He didn’t look lost or alone- he looked almost happy.

Veronica’s lips pressed together tightly, and she quickly glanced down at her drink, refusing to watch any longer. She refused to see anything there before they threatened to tear her open.

 

** VII. I Wonder, I Wonder, I Wonder **

A sigh escaped Veronica as the booze finally hit and took over, the smile on her lips growing when Logan wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. The waves crashed around them, and it was nice to be left completely alone on this cool, autumn evening.

Logan’s black hoodie covered her body and even though goose bumps rose on his arms, he stayed stubbornly cold and quiet for the sake of Veronica’s warmth, and she loved him then. His leg rose and dropped over her denim-clad legs, and he nearly straddled her, burying his face against her neck.

He could’ve fucked her right then and there, she was convinced, but he didn’t. He continued to lay there, humming some Oasis song under his breath as his cool fingers ran over her collarbone. She left a soft kiss on his forehead, sighing when he kissed her neck in return.

She could learn to love this new Logan. This wasn’t the Logan that pulled her ponytail and left fake fortunes on her desk. This wasn’t the Logan who fell in love with Lilly Kane and never looked back. This wasn’t the Logan who cried in the bathroom on the day of Lilly’s funeral and slammed the door in her face. This wasn’t the Logan who bashed her headlights in or who asked her to work her magic. This wasn’t the Logan who burned pools and dated sophomores for personal gain or slept with trophy wives in a drunken stupor.

This was a Logan who was quieter and more reflective and just downright sad, but as long as he was happy around her, that was all that mattered. He made her smile and she made him almost happy and that was what counted in the end, ruined lives and bloodshed be damned.

They were the perfect couple. A shoe-in for Neptune High’s King and Queen of the blood-soaked prom if Cassidy wasn’t busy killing their classmates and Duncan wasn’t off evading the FBI. If that summer didn’t happen and Lilly didn’t die...but, of course, everything would’ve been okay if Lilly had lived.

Veronica giggled, shaking her head, and Logan lifted his head, a frown already forming. “What?”

“Do you think Lilly would’ve liked us dating?”

Logan stared at her for a long moment, a laugh of disbelief escaping him. “Fucking, she might have dug that. Dating...no.”

A frown played on Veronica’s lips, then. “Why not?”

He chuckled, his head dropping against her shoulder once more. “Don’t be so fucking naive, Veronica,” he said simply.

“I’m not naive,” she whispered. Naive girls don’t carry tasers and pocket knives. Then again, naive girls got raped by the little brother of an acquaintance.

“Okay.”

“I’m _not_ naive,” she repeated, harsher this time. He was silent, and she squeezed his shoulder to get his attention. “Do you want me to be?”

Logan swallowed hard, shrugging but keeping his face out of her line of vision. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

She lifted her head, staring down at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t bite, keeping his head at her chest and only lifting his gaze so their eyes met. “I just don’t want you to be angry and bitter like me. It’s not fair.”

Veronica’s jaw clenched as she lowered her head back onto the blanket, closing her eyes. “Life isn’t fair,” she said icily, refusing to let Logan’s complete and utter lack of a response get to her.

 

** VIII. Fuck the Pain Away **

Veronica stared at the bar above the elevator doors, watching as the numbers lit their way closer to Logan’s floor. Her body was already heating up and her panties were wet with anticipation. She knew he was home, she just hoped he was alone so she wouldn’t have to kick some unlucky frat boys out.

She glanced down at her clothes, huffing in annoyance. One undercover mission to a biker bar, and she ended up looking like Leather Whore Barbie, complete with a black leather skirt, crimson tank and lips, and a nice, straight black wig that fell down her shoulders. At least she got the info she needed.

What she didn’t need was a pinch to her ass, and she made sure Mr. Sparky made that perfectly clear.

Her phone started to chirp as she exited the elevator, walking down the hall to Logan’s door. She plucked her phone from her bag, glancing down at the screen. One text message. With a sigh, she clicked the appropriate buttons, scanning for the message from Wallace.

Her breath caught as she stared at those four words, simple but a hard punch, nonetheless: _Another girl was raped_. Then, below it, _Call me_.

Veronica’s jaw clenched as she dropped the phone back into her bag and scooped up her wallet in one swift move. She pulled out the familiar thin card, quickly slicing it through the slot. With a flick of her wrist, she opened the door, moving inside.

The sounds of Fiona Apple filled her ears, and she knew he was in the midst of studying. He only listened to “girl rock” when he was trying to cram- it was the only music that managed to keep him focused- it was strangely amusing.

It wasn’t as amusing now as she dropped her bag on the floor, shutting the door behind her. Her mood had darkened dramatically even though a bit of arousal remained and she couldn’t quite explain why. She wanted to crawl into bed and start crying but all she could do was see Logan there and she knew, like always, he was her release.

Logan slowly smiled, setting down his textbook. “Oh, my God, you look like a doppelganger,” The smile grew as she stalked him around the couch. “Evil, Bizarro Veronica, here to ravish me.”

“Something like that,” she muttered, grabbing the book out of his hands and tossing it to the side. “Fuck me all night?”

A small smirk fell on his lips. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

Her eyes clouded over, not in the mood for his jokes, not in the mood to mess around and dance around the topic at hand. “I’m _definitely_ telling you.”

He laughed, slouching down in his seat as she spread his legs at the knees. “We’re playing a game tonight? You didn’t even tell me you were coming over, I could’ve been more prepared,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively as she ran her hands over his thighs. “Hell, I could’ve brought out the handcuffs if you were feeling this frisky. I’m always game-”

Veronica stared at his chest, blinking rapidly. “Another girl was raped.”

Logan’s smile faded as she slid between his legs again, and he slowly sat up, swallowing hard. “Oh, God, Veronica-”

Her eyes locked on his, determined now. “Logan. Shut up.”

“No,” Logan said firmly, already knowing where she was going with this and not wanting it to happen. He knew firsthand what this was, it wasn’t going to solve anything. “We need to talk about this-”

“No more talking,” Veronica straddled Logan's lap, lifting her skirt over her hips before unfastening his pants hastily.

He watched her in slight shock, inhaling sharply when her hands found his already hardening cock. “Stop. Slow down,” he said, his voice shaking as he tried to hold her hands still. “I’m not doing anything until you talk to me.”

“We’re talking right now.”

“Not what I meant, and you fucking know it.”

Veronica lifted her head, her eyes catching his as she ran her hand over his cock, smiling when he gasped at the contact. “Logan, just...” she trailed off, a tired sigh escaping her. “I need this right now,” she kissed him softly, and it was only when he kissed her back that she pressed her mouth against his harder. She pulled away roughly, letting out a huff of breath. “You’re telling me no?”

His eyes narrowed, and he licked his lips, tasting her cherry lip gloss. “N-No...listen, just tell me-”

“Shut up-” she bit her lower lip, stroking his cock, her body heating up at the sounds of his gasps, his hands moving to her thighs. Her hips began to grind against his lap, and he let out a faint groan, jerking her closer to him. She leaned against his chest, supporting herself as she lifted her body up before guiding him inside her. Her eyes closed when Logan groaned, louder this time, and she licked her lips, her hips already moving.

Logan held on to Veronica's hips, trying to slow her down as she started to move faster. The pleasure was overwhelming, but so was Veronica's sudden determination. She was fucking him like she had something to prove, and he wasn't sure what.

“Wait a minute. Slow down,” he demanded breathlessly, reaching up and cupping her face with both hands. “Hold on-”

Veronica grabbed his arms, pinning them down against the couch. She pressed her palms against his forearms, thrusting harder and getting a moan out of him. She smiled, pressing her forehead against his. “You like that?” she asked breathlessly.

“Slow down, Veronica,” Logan choked, trying to free his hands.

“Do you like that?” she asked again, a sharp tinge in her voice.

Something in Logan’s eyes changed then, the panic faded away to just a hint of sadness, but then transformed to something so wonderfully familiar. Lust. “Yes.”

He finally jolted forward, ripping the wig off Veronica’s head and biting her shoulder hard enough to make her groan. His fingers stretched and clutched her ass, gripping her tightly as she thrust out, hard and rough. A hiss escaped him as she drove down, up, then down again, relentlessly. She was going to break him, he could feel it.

Veronica’s hands fumbled down his shoulders, gripping his blue shirt tightly. She tried to unbutton it, finally giving up when her fingers kept slipping, her shaking hands ripping the fabric open. He stared at her in shock, then anger, before kissing her hard, his mouth crushing hers. She moaned against his lips, gasping when he started to lift his hips against hers.

“Harder-” she cried out harshly, and she was surprised by the rasp in her voice, an ugly, desperate sound.

Logan groaned as she moved harder, and he gripped her hair, jerking her head back roughly. She cried out, gasps escaping her as he ran his tongue over her skin before biting her throat hard. Whimpers fell from her lips as he bit her skin harder, harder, until she cried out in slight anger, her nails digging into his shoulders.

She moved faster, harder, squeezing around his cock until he shouted sharply, tugging on her hair again. Her hands shifted, and she gripped his knees tightly as her back arched, her hips continuing to buck and crash against his.

It was almost painful now, each movement rough and fast and just too angry. She could feel him coming out now, her Logan. Angry, bitter, rough Logan. He was there and pulling her hair as he fucked her, his other hand cupping and squeezing her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple until she groaned.

She was just as angry; she hated him for not making this just sex even when he was fucking her. She could still feel his love and he was hurting her but not enough to truly hurt her and make her cry and make her bleed. No, he was hurting her because he knew it was what was turning her on at the moment and she hated him for caring so much in this twisted way. She hated Cassidy even more for ruining her after she had put herself back together, for opening up old wounds and ensuring the bruising would never completely fade.

Logan groaned, turning and flipping them both on the couch, and Veronica didn’t miss a beat, her legs wrapping around his hips, her heels digging against his ass and urging him in deeper. He pounded into her, not caring until her head hit the arm of the couch and he yanked her against his thighs so he couldn’t hurt her any more than he already was.

He hated this, hated what they had become. He hated Cassidy for bringing this ugliness out in Veronica and all he wanted was to have her back so he wouldn’t have to be so scared that she would either shut down or blow up. Yet, for a moment he was grateful for the genuine reaction- she was actually showing some emotion and he wanted to hug her as he saw the pain and desperation on her face.

“Veronica-” he groaned and she let out a sharp cry, biting her lip hard and drawing blood and he slammed his lips against hers, tasting her. He started to slow down, wanting to end this before it went too far. He needed to end it, for her sake.

He sat on his knees, bringing Veronica with him, and she kept thrusting, her cries getting louder and louder with each move. Her back arched and he quickly wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her against his chest. She tried to wiggle free, and he clutched her hips tighter, not relenting even when she let out a pained, angry cry.

“Calm down...” he whispered, his mouth against her ear. His hand pressed against her lower back, trying to still her. "It's okay, baby-"

“Stop,” Veronica gasped, shoving at his chest. “Stop-”

Logan moved slower, leaving a gentle kiss on Veronica’s neck. “Relax, baby,” he said, his voice shaking. “Please.”

Veronica’s eyes shut as she shoved against him, trying to get him to move harder. “Logan- stop...I _need_ this-” she said through gritted teeth.

“I’m giving it to you, but you need to calm down,” he said breathlessly. He adjusted his grip, sliding her closer to him, her legs spreading even more at the movement. “Relax.”

She moaned as she rubbed against his hips with each measured thrust, her fingers digging into his skin. He groaned softly, leaving a tender kiss on her lips and she almost crumbled, quickly burying her face in his neck. “I need this...” she whimpered and he hugged her tighter against his chest, tilting back so she was laying on top of him.

His hand pressed firmly against her lower back, and she gasped, moving her hips faster. He met each thrust, sharp pants escaping him as she rode him harder, her mouth wet against his skin. It was still urgent, but the harshness was gone, and she cried out as she came, her hips bucking against his.

Logan groaned as she tightened around him, his hips jerking up as his orgasm overwhelmed him, his fingers digging into Veronica’s skin. He moved harder, taking in every whimper that came out of Veronica’s mouth with each thrust. He kept moving, his hands keeping her pressed against him and refusing her space for a speedy departure.

Veronica’s teeth clenched as he continued to thrust, and she was sore but kept moving, feeling another orgasm approaching. She gasped loudly as a faint “I love you” fell from his lips, and she came harder than ever before, a sharp cry of pleasure and pain and anguish escaping her lips and he pressed his lips against hers, swallowing each and every battle cry.

She continued to scream against his mouth as the tears sprung to the corners of her eyes, and her nails dug into his chest harder, breaking skin. His lips parted and she groaned against his mouth, finally collapsing in his arms.

Logan blinked rapidly, his arm wrapping around Veronica’s waist as she sobbed in his arms, clutching at his chest. He shoved away the guilt growing inside him, telling himself that there were more pressing matters at hand, that Veronica needed him now. The guilt could wait.

“It’s okay,” he said breathlessly, stroking her damp hair with his free hand, pressing his lips against her temple. His eyes fell on her black wig, discarded and forgotten on the floor, and he inhaled shakily, tearing his eyes away from it. “I’m here, baby...”

Veronica inhaled sharply, sitting up and trying to climb off of Logan, but he was just as quick, yanking her to him again. He kissed her forehead hard before hugging her tightly, ignoring her as she cursed against his chest, shoving at him angrily. “It’s okay...” he whispered.

She let out a strangled yell, shoving him one last time and sobbing when he didn’t release her, finally collapsing against him. She hadn’t cried like this since the rooftop, holding onto the same man that had held her just as tightly as he did now.

She cried for that night at Shelley’s party, for those two years of hell, for Logan, for Duncan, for Parker, for poor, stupid Cassidy, and she cried for herself. For her innocence. For everything she was never going to get back, no matter how hard she tried.

The walls were crumbling and the mask was gone and the bruises were fresh but fading as Logan held her, rocking her gently in his arms. Even with the stupid leather and the crimson lipstick staining her lips and Logan’s mouth and the black eyeliner and all that baggage, she was finally Veronica again. She was Veronica and Logan was never happier to see her, even with tears streaming down her face.

 

** IX. Never the Same, But Better Now **

“Do you think about Cassidy?” Logan asked quietly as he reclined on his large green blanket, gently bringing Veronica with him.

She rested against his chest, adjusting her sunglasses as Hearst students walked and chatted around them and the south Quad, an occasional frisbee flying over her head. She inhaled deeply, smelling the freshly cut grass. “Sometimes.”

“When.”

Veronica sighed, running her hand down Logan’s stomach and he responded by entwining her fingers with his. “When I think he’s finally out of sight,” she was quiet for a moment, leaving a small kiss on Logan’s knuckles, the bruises on his hand already fading away. “You think of Aaron?”

Logan licked his lips, staring at the startlingly blue sky and for the first time appreciating the brightness of it. “Never.”

“Really?”

“Veronica, if I thought about him, I would have to think about everything and then I would never get out of bed,” he paused, a smile on his lips. “So, I think about you.”

She grinned slightly, sliding up his body so she was on top of him, her chest against his. She rested her head against his, her smile growing when he kissed her cheek softly. “All the time?”

“Ninety-five percent of the time.”

“What do you think about for that extra five?”

“Not much,” he shrugged. “I mean, really, how does Kevin Federline sleep at night?”

Veronica shut her eyes tightly, a genuine laugh escaping her. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you you’re not deep, Logan Echolls,” she said quietly.

He laughed, hugging her tightly. “You’re the brains in this operation, Mars. I’m the heart.”

“Wow, all we need is courage.”

“What do you think our dear Wallace is for?” Veronica phone began to chirp, and Logan sighed, shutting his eyes. “Go ahead.”

Veronica rolled her eyes, reaching over and grabbing her phone. She glanced at the ID, smiling for a moment before answering. “Yeah.”

“Hey, V,” Wallace said. “Piz and I are going to get some pizza. Wanna come?”

“I’m with Logan.”

“So? Bring him, too.”

Veronica glanced down at Logan, looking more peaceful than she ever remembered, and she reclined on top of him again. “Give us ten minutes,” she said before hanging up on Wallace, tossing the phone aside. Logan smiled, wrapping his arms around her, and she sighed, leaving a soft kiss against his neck. “Ten minutes,” she murmured.

Nothing more need be said.

“Ten minutes...” Logan whispered.


End file.
